


Anywhere but here, anything but this, anyone but me.

by slambam



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Gen, this eventually leads to female adaar/iron bull so i think this counts?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slambam/pseuds/slambam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after In Hushed Whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere but here, anything but this, anyone but me.

Tasnim didn’t notice the chill. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the tavern and she didn’t care, but the silence outside let her know it was late enough. There had been a few stragglers when she’d asked Flissa to bring her another bottle and leave it, mostly soldiers waiting to be sober enough to stumble back to the barracks. Flissa hadn’t asked Tasnim to leave with the others, quietly tidying around her and leaving with a quiet goodbye that sounded like she’d changed her mind halfway through it. Now, Tasnim sat alone in the dark, hunched over a table and staring at nothing. She grabbed for the bottle of spirits and caught it by the neck, taking a drink. The heat of it spread in her chest, her throat numb enough that she didn’t feel the burn anymore. She barely tasted it.

“Boss.”

Tasnim didn’t look up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. She didn’t hear him come in, but it didn’t matter.

“Your people are worried.” There was a critical edge to his voice that made her bristle.

Tasnim let out a short huff of a laugh and shook her head incredulously.

“So sorry to have upset them,” She practically spat the words, hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “I’ll be sure to start writing my apology.”

Iron Bull said nothing, stepping forward to pull out the chair across from her, sitting down. She took another pull, glancing at him while she did. It was too dark and she was too drunk to read his expression, if he had one at all. His silence made her insides twist into a hard, hot knot at her core, getting tighter with each passing moment. She looked away from him, willing him silently to leave or at least to do something, letting the tension build. 

When she spoke, her voice was blunt and quivering.

“It was never supposed to be like this.” She released the bottle, leaning her forehead on one hand and curling the other into a loose fist. “This was supposed to be easy coin. In and out, babysit some Templars and mages and maybe see some action and then we all go home and get drunk.” 

She paused, words catching in her throat as she tried to speak them. “I – I expected some scrapping. Small shit. It wasn’t supposed to explode. The sky wasn’t supposed to rip open. There’s not – there shouldn’t be a – ”

Her voice rose as she spoke, the quiver turning into a shake. It felt like everything inside her was buzzing, the energy was too big, too much, bouncing off the sides of her skull. She pressed her face into her hands to try and make it stop, digging her fingertips into her forehead until the pounding ceased enough that she could breathe again.

The silence pressed heavily on her and she started to crumple beneath it, choking on a bitter laugh.

“I had something with the Valo-kas.” She shook her head. “I should be passed out back in the Marches, not… not this. Maker, anything but this.”

She let one arm fall limp on the table, sliding the other upwards until she could grip the base of one of her horns, leaning heavily on it.

Iron Bull leaned forward. 

“Don’t.” She wasn’t entirely sure what she was warning him not to do. 

In the corner of her vision she saw him take the bottle, heard the sound of liquid moving, a swallow – maybe two. He set it back down where it had been. Empty.

“Get some sleep, boss.” His voice was almost unreadable, but it might have been sympathetic. Maybe she just hoped it was. 

She heard his chair scrape on the floor and she looked up to watch his back as he left, chest tightening. 

The door latched quietly behind him, and she was alone in the dark with her empty bottle and the crushing silence, the exhaustion of the last week finally taking hold. She continued to stare at the door, spent, too numb to find something else to look at, and after what felt like an eternity she leaned forward and put her head down on her folded arms. Closing her eyes tightly, she willed herself to pass out, fall asleep, anything that would make this end. At least for now.


End file.
